How I Met Your Hunters
by TheDuckyTie
Summary: Sam and Dean found a case in New York that was thought to be the works of a serial killer named Ghost of the Girlfriend Past, and little did they know she was one of Ted Mosby's exes and was after him and the rest of the gang.
1. Stormy Night

**A/N: This is a crossover between Supernatural and How I Met Your Mother. I do not own either of them nor their characters. Reviews will be greatly appreciated.**

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**TED'S POV**

_Kids, did I ever tell you about that time when two men I never met saved our lives?_

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A thunderstorm struck New York tonight. I was living alone in a new apartment after Jeanette and I recently broke up while Marshall and Lily were living at my old flat, and Robin was living with Barney.

I looked over to the clock on the wall, the time says 11:42 PM. I skipped my lunch today when I was up to my elbows in grading work. For a second I thought I could just walk down to the MacLaren's and have some wings, but somehow something stopped me. I convinced myself to stay at home, and fire up some Hot-Pockets since I'm a single man in his 30s living on his own, don't expect me to have a fully stocked pantry.

Thunder rumbles outside my window, the microwave hums prepping my delectable instant Philly Cheesesteak. I felt my phone vibrate on my back pocket as I was trying to lit my cigar on the stove. It was Marshall calling.

"Hey, Marshall," I greeted with my fingers rolling my cigar back and forth.

"Ted, are you sure it's safe for you to be all alone in this storm? The forecast says it's gonna be pretty intense,"

I scoffed condescendingly, "Marshall, come on. I'm a grown man, I'll be fine. I'll call you if anything's up," I said as I opened a bottle of cold beer.

"Okay, Ted. Wha-what's that, Lil? Oh, okay, I'll tell him. Lilly said be safe," said Marshall over the phone. My reply was suppressed when I took a sip of my beer and felt a burn shoving down my throat as the liquid streams down into my digestive system. "Ted? Ted, are you okay?" I dropped my phone, I could hear the screen cracked when it came in contact with the hard ground. I felt like I was about to purge out the biggest vomit of my life but my throat was sewn shut. I helplessly twitch in the ground as my vision blurs out, and I really thought I was going to die that night. The thunder struck my apartment's fuse and the whole kitchen blacked out. I wished it would be over, I wished whatever substance was killing me inside would just finish the job but it didn't. I forced myself to stand up, grabbing on to the counter for dear life and I realized the only light that illuminated the room was from the stove's flames I hadn't turn off when I was about to lit my cigar.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard from my living room. I turned around and I saw shadows of two men, one of them was shining a flashlight to my face.

"...hexbag! Burn it!" I indistinctly heard their frantic words, my knees can't even handle my weight anymore, I dropped motionless to the floor, however I can still hear everything that goes on around me. "Found it!" one of them shouts and they shoved whatever that thing they found into the stove's flames. A sudden flash of fire bursts in my kitchen, and inexplicably my vision returns into its original state as if nothing ever happened. One of the two men stuck his emergency light to my fridge, offering a full illumination. I can see them clearly then, one of them was very tall, flannel-wearing guy with a mane; while the other was a slightly shorter dark-blond haired guy with a leather jacket. "It's okay, Sir. You're safe now," the tall one pulled me back on my feet and turned off the stove. I was breathing heavily, enjoying every bit of oxygen running through me. The leather jacket guy even gave me a glass of water. And yet I still don't know who they were or how did they know where I live and how they stopped everything in a split second after a Cirque-de-Soleil-ish fire show occurred.

"Who-who are you guys?" I asked breathlessly.

"I'm Sam, and this is my brother, Dean." said Sam, the tall one. "You're...Ted Mosby, right?" he asked. I nodded, I was a bit fascinated by the fact that now I have met someone taller than Marshall's brother-Marcus.

"Would you mind...telling me what happened?" I asked. Sam and Dean looked at each other, they thought what they were about to tell me would sound absolutely mental to someone who isn't the least bit superstitious. "Mr. Mosby, first of all, do you know this woman?" Dean unfolds a picture from the inside of his jacket. My eyes widen in surprise, I couldn't believe _she _was a wanted fugitive. I know our relationship ended in bad terms but...no...I can't be her.

"Yes. Yes I do know her," I murmured.

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"So, that was me being...cursed?"

"Yeah. That thing we burned in your stove was a hexbag. It serves as a medium between you and that crazy bitch who wants to hurt you," said Dean.

"Well, what's in it? The hexbag, I mean," in my mind I was still searching for the possibility of this person cursing me having any hold of my possessions.

Sam pursed his lips together, trying to regain what was in that tiny hexbag. "I think there was a charred bone of a black cat, a lock of blonde hair, and some unknown herbs, I guess," he said.

"Mr. Mosby, Sam and I strongly suggest-"

"Oh, please. Call me Ted," I said, smiling. I can't let these two people who just saved my life still call me by my last name, it's common courtesy.

Dean paused, "Uh...okay, Ted. Sam and I think it's not the best decision for you to be alone these times. Can you call up a few friends to stay with you for...say, a week?"

_Easy_, I thought. Marshall, Lilly, Robin and Barney would come over in a heartbeat when they know what happened. "Sure, they live nearby,"

"Great. In the meantime, wear this." Dean gave me a charm that shaped like a pentagram sun. "What's this?" I asked.

"Anti-possession charm," Sam replied as he spreads salt on my windows and doors. "Now, Ted, as long as these salt lines are unbroken, you'll be safe." Dean instructed. I suddenly feel like I'm a part of a horror film, only this is much more life-threatening than that.

When they were about to leave, I realized I left out a small little detail. "Wait!"

They both stayed for a couple more hours, I told them my history with this person who hexed me, I even told them that my friends were also not in good terms with the hexer.

"Starts in the beginning of 2013..."

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_** 48 HOURS EARLIER**_

Barney was sitting on their usual booth at MacLaren's, with a glass of scotch in his hands. Robin was sitting across him, having small talks about their wedding. Marshall and Lilly was having a little time alone in the bar, leaving little Marvin with Lilly's dad upstairs. Everything was normal, just like any other regular nights at MacLaren's.

"...No, Barney. We're not having strippers in our wedding, what's wrong with you?" Robin scoffed.

"It's not gonna be for me, it's purely for the guests' entertainment. Just hear me out, Robin. Imagine what it would be like in a stifling monogamy for the rest of our lives without at least having a wedding that we'd still talk about in 50 years! Like, my 78 year old self with an erectile dysfunction would still remember how _redonkulous _it was seeing your Uncle Thomas got dragged out to the hospital due to his first time in 60 years seeing a real life female human breasts 5 inches away from his face," he giggled. "...awesome," Barney muttered to himself.

Without them noticing and still arguing over exotic dancers at their wedding, Ted walked in the bar.

"...they'll be wearing a bra in the shape of our initials, Robin, come on!"

"No, Barney! No strippers, and that's that or no hot action for you in our wedding night!"

"Damn it," he gets up to get a refill on his scotch when he bumped into Ted.

"Hey, Mosby. What's up? You look upset," Robin said. Ted sighed before answering, and laid down the invitation card to their wedding. The name of his +1 was scratched off.

"Oh, you...?" even Barney was a little taken aback.

"Yeah...I broke things off with...Jeanette." Ted sat down next to Robin with a wary look in his eyes. Barney waved down Marshall and Lilly to come join them in the booth.

"What happened, Ted?" Lilly asked.

Ted took a sip of a beer Marshall handed to him. "Well...she was insane, that's why," he said.

"What, that's it? Nothing else?"

"Yeah. I mean she's obviously not going to be the mother of my children, I was just only in it for the sex, to be honest," Ted chuckled. Barney looked at him proudly and raised his arms, "I have taught you well, my son," he guffawed.

"Well, just be careful. Insane girls like her don't just let things go after a break-up," said Lilly warily. Robin nodded in agreement, "True, Ted. You should probably keep a crucifix in your bedside or something,"

"I agree with the women," said Marshall, being known as the superstitious one in the group.

"Please, what's she gonna do? Steal a lock of my hair in my sleep and use them to cast some voodoo magic? Come on, it's 2013," Ted laughed as he crushed a pistachio in his hand.

Marshall looked nauseous, "Oh, God, Ted. Don't say that," he said in a low tone as if he was afraid Jeanette was somewhere lurking outside the bar, secretly listening to their conversation over a small chip she had planted under the table.

Which she did, by the way.


	2. An Unexpected Visitor

Jeanette's POV

Who does Ted Mosby think he is? He _dumped _me right there in his stupid living room after I photoshopped my face in every single family portrait he has and he said I was being presumptuous. I mean, _what_? Any guy on Earth should feel flattered when someone does such flattering gesture! His friends said that I'm 'crazy' or 'obsessive'. And that is after I single-handedly duplicated all of their house keys. Okay, fine, maybe I didn't actually ask for their permission but come on! I thought we were tight enough for me to do that!

I'm pissed. I have never been this upset after a breakup before. I thought he was going to ask me to marry him, but I guess the hints I was picking up didn't exactly translate to that. I would have been a real catch for you, Ted Evelyn Mosby.

And the worst part is, there's nearly nothing I can do about it. Ted had issued a restraining order against me. Me! Lieutenant Jeanette Peterson of NYPD!

I opened my cabinet and hastily grabbed any liquor my hand could reach. Who cares about alcohol poisoning these days? I filled my glass up to its rims and start chugging down, the sweet burn of the elixir slightly relieves my anger.

"Hello, darling," an unfamiliar voice coming from behind startled me. I grabbed the bottle and slammed it on the counter, leaving it mangled with sharp shards at its ends. I turned around quickly, ready to maim the intruder's face until it's unrecognizable when I suddenly lose control of my own body.

"Oh, no need to do that, really," the intruder was a man in his late forties, his attire was all black consisting of a suit and a pair of fancy shoes, his hairline seems to be receding and greying, a neat stubble framed his face. He was pretty attractive for an older man.

"Who are you? I'm warning you, I am a police officer!" I shrieked, I cursed myself in my head for leaving my Glock on my bedside. Damn it, I should've taken my mom's advice on keeping a gun in every cabinet of the house!

"Well, I'm the King of Hell and you're in no place to warn me about anything," he said, his voice tone sounds very calm, he's not in rush to finish his sentence. His fingers traced one of my wine glasses' rims and suddenly the glass was filled by a gorgeous-looking Chardonnay.

He gently tilts his glass and takes a sip, smacking his lips slightly afterwards. "I don't believe we've been introduced. My name's Crowley. As you would have known, I run Hell,"

I scoffed, "What kind of psycho are you?"

"Oh, so now I'm the psycho and not you, the crazy bloody girlfriend squeezing the commitment out of her partner?" I was completely taken aback, I have never met this guy before and how did he know about me and...my caring personality?

"I see you're somewhat...upset, about Theodore." said Crowley.

I stayed quiet, still glaring at him watching his every step as for any sudden movement, I'm ready to decapitate this weirdo and toss him six feet underground at Central Park.

"I guess you could say that," I shrugged, stealthily grabbing my kitchen knife from the wall slot.

"Well then, what do you say we...get back at him, eh? Show him how much he lost after breaking up with such a sweet young lady like yourself," he flashes me a wide smile, and handed me a tiny, dirty pocket that seemed to be at least eight decades old.

"I don't understand. Why are you telling me all this?"

"Darling, let's just say that you and I working together, are more or less something I would call a mutual symbiosis. You're helping me by letting me help you," Crowley smirked as he takes a final sip of his wine. "That little hexbag you're holding in your hand, is the thing that will make Theodore Mosby kneel before you,"

I smirked, grasping the hexbag tightly in my fist. In a blink of an eye, Crowley disappeared. I was again alone in my apartment with wine glass shards all over my counter. I untied the small string tying the hexbag closed, and I found a piece of paper containing instructions about the ingredients I needed. Blood, lock of hair, charred bone of a cat...

"Easy peasy lemon squeezy," I chirped brightly as I tied the hexbag back closed. I grabbed my kitchen knife from my counter, and started tapping my thighs. I whistled and clicked my tongue to attract Leroy, my little black kitten, from his hiding place.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty..."

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**NOTE: I'm VERY sorry for the lack of update, from now on I can only update during weekends since I'm very busy studying for final exams. Thank you.**


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